


Catching Up

by HashtagLEH



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Aaron doesn't die, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Doesn't Die, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Gen, Guilt, Happy Ending, It's Aaron, Protective Aaron Davis, Protective Miles Morales, You're Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 06:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20559611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HashtagLEH/pseuds/HashtagLEH
Summary: Miles is fast, but even with his Spidey powers, he can't outrun a motorcycle.The Prowler catches up to him.





	Catching Up

**Author's Note:**

> We need more Miles and Aaron interaction, so I decided to add my own bit to the pool. I wrote this in about six hours, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I definitely enjoyed writing it. ;)

Miles always went to his Uncle Aaron when he was having problems and he needed advice. He used to go to his dad, but...well, as he got older he just didn't feel so much like he listened to him. He knew his dad loved him, but he ascribed more to the "tough love" method of parenting. And Uncle Aaron was just always easier to talk to, so for the past couple of years at least he went to him when he needed to talk, needed some normal advice. Not things like school and his future that seemed to be all his dad wanted to talk about.

So when he didn't find his uncle in his apartment, he decided to write him a letter to ask for help. Or maybe to explain, in case things went wrong. He wasn't totally sure, but he needed Uncle Aaron's support right now, because he was the only one he could trust to give it in this case, what with his dad hating Spiderman. He thought he could reveal his identity and his new powers to his uncle, so he was determined to do so as soon as he saw him again. Aaron would know what to do. He always had an answer for his problems.

He was just finishing writing out the brief letter when he heard a noise on the fire escape, and he looked over to see a familiar-looking figure approaching the window.

_Why isn't he coming through the front door? It's his own place..._

But he smiled anyway, because now he could see him and ask him things _now_, rather than having to wait until he came home from wherever he'd been out of town and gave him a call. Aaron went out of town a lot for whatever work he picked up, and Miles didn’t know that he would be back before everything that he would be able to give advice.

But then he saw familiar, dread-inducing claws grasp the underside of the window, slowly lifting up. He wondered if it was going in slow motion or if that was just the fear sweeping through him.

The Prowler. He had found him. He probably knew who he was, because otherwise there was no reason to come to his uncle's apartment. Aaron was just a normal guy. Somehow, this villain had tracked him down here, and he didn't want to ruin any of Uncle Aaron's stuff but also if the Prowler knew who he was, then there was really nowhere that he could run to be safe. Prowler would track him down eventually. Probably have no qualms about hurting his parents, or any of the other students at Visions Academy. It depended on when the villain tracked him down again. Villains just didn't care about collateral damage...

He sucked in a breath as the Prowler looked around the room, his gaze menacing like he knew that something was off but couldn’t see anything. He was relieved that his powers had decided to freak out right then and make him invisible in his panic. Prowler was strong, and Miles was just a thirteen-year-old kid. Strong, sure. Had powers, sure. But he didn’t know how to use them. In a fight, with just the two of them, Miles was certain that he would lose. And as a kid raised in Brooklyn, he knew how to run, how to keep his head down and stay unnoticed to keep himself safe.

He stayed hidden behind the TV, and pulled his mask over his face because it provided some small measure of comfort that no one could see his expression when it was covered. Of course, Prowler clearly already knew who he was, because he was _here_, but he at least wouldn’t see how freaked out he was if he _did _end up finding him. At that thought, he tried slowing his breaths, quieting them because they were coming out in too-loud pants in his panic. He heard the soft footsteps of the villain as he went through the living room, carefully searching for anyone nearby.

A moment later, his spidey sense – a sense he was still trying to get used to and interpret correctly – shrieked through his mind, and the dark purple figure of the Prowler appeared around the side of the TV, staring right at him. He skittered back as the man stalked forward, certain that he was found, and hoping and praying and _pleading _to whoever would listen that he would remain invisible.

Prowler was staring right over him, head turning slightly from side to side as he scanned the area in front of him, and Miles held his breath because he was literally _inches _away from his face and sure to find him at any moment –

Then there was a vibrating buzz, and for a wild moment Miles worried that it was his own phone, but then a moment later Prowler brought a hand up to his ear.

His voice was robotic, clearly using a voice simulator, and Miles’ heart was beating too fast to hear exactly what was said through the garbled tones at first, but when the villain stood up, his heart rate slowed enough that he picked up the last of what he was saying: “…I’ll find him.”

For a moment, he thought the villain was talking about him, Miles. But also the new Spiderman. He didn’t have time to wonder about all of it, and what the separation of people meant in his head, because a moment later all of his thoughts screeched to a halt as the Prowler removed his mask, and –

_Oh, no. Oh, Dios, **no**._

His breath was coming faster again, watching as his uncle – his _uncle _– turned around and set _his Prowler mask _(because he was a _villain_) on the counter. His back was turned, and suddenly the world felt like it was turned completely upside down and Miles didn’t know if he could even trust the man anymore – not like he had once trusted him with more than anyone. Would Uncle Aaron even care if he found out that Miles was the new Spiderman? Would he just do his job anyway and kill him, like Fisk wanted? He had killed – or, had almost killed, if Fisk wouldn’t have done it – Peter Parker, and sure that was “just” Spiderman, but Miles didn’t know what to think anymore and he just needed to _get away_.

He was rushed, and he couldn’t think through the whirlpool in his brain, and he backed into the tree beside the window on his way out, and a moment later he knew that Uncle Aaron – that _Prowler _– had noticed and was on his way after him, because his spidey sense increased its strength as it told him to _run, run, **run**!_

He was jumping down whole flights of stairs to the next level, knowing that his new body could take it but still stumbling in his blinding panic as he heard the rattling of the fire escape above him and could _swear _he felt the whoosh as Prowler’s cape trailed behind him as he chased after him. He looked up, choking on hysterical panic at the sight of the glowing purple soles as the boots landed with a clatter on the level above him.

He wasn’t getting off the fire escape fast enough, because he was scared and Prowler was nothing but _focused _and it allowed the man to catch up with him, so he finally just leaped off the side, trying to grab the side of the building. But of course his powers failed him, and he held on for less than a second before he was falling off, landing in a pile of garbage bags. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling away and down the alley, hearing as Prowler landed with a heavy clang on the industrial-sized garbage bin. He heard the boots launch into action – literally, and glanced back to see Prowler chasing after him with furious intent, several feet off the ground and gaining speed.

He turned the corner, forgetting about the pile of boxes that were always there when he came by to visit his uncle, and falling over them before he managed to right himself and go stumbling down the rest of the alley. Prowler was behind him, using the sides of buildings as leverage as he ping-ponged his way toward him, boot rockets increasing as the way became clearer.

He crashed into a car on his way out, hardly having noticed that he had gotten to the end of the alley, and he turned to run down the sidewalk. He looked behind him several times, expecting Prowler to appear behind him at any moment, but maybe the guy just didn’t want to come after him more publicly. In his apartment was one thing, and in alleys was one thing, because very few people – if any – would actually see it.

He was just glancing behind him again, expecting to see the Prowler again at any moment, when his spidey sense blared a warning once again, and he whipped his head around to see Prowler on a themed motorcycle and everything rushing toward him.

There was no time to move, but Miles tried jumping up, maybe to avoid the bike coming at full speed. But all it did was change the angle at which he was hit.

Pain exploded in his side, and he felt dizzy with it – wait, no, that was because he was actually spinning through the air. He could only catch glimpses through the seconds of spinning, and he thought he might be going _into _the alley that Prowler had just gone out of, rather than into the street.

_Contra, this is going to hurt… _he had time to think, just before he slammed into the ground, on the side where he’d been hit with the motorcycle.

He was dizzy with pain, but he tried getting up. He let out a gasp that he couldn’t hold back when the pain increased exponentially, and he could _swear _he heard one of his ribs clacking against another.

His spidey sense had been going crazy for several minutes now, but he still noticed when it ticked upward again, and he looked up to see Uncle Aaron – to see _Prowler _– park his bike at the base of the alley and dismount, coming toward him.

He tried scooting backwards, but the pain was too much and he barely managed to scoot a couple of inches before the man was upon him, and those _awful_, clawed mechanical fingers were wrapped in a vice grip around his neck, lifting him up to stand on his tip-toes and straining his ribs enough to make him let out a whimper of pain.

“Nowhere left to run,” Uncle Aaron’s voice didn’t sound like his own at all, not just due to the voice modulator, but because it sounded so _flat_, so _emotionless_, but still with an air of menacing that he was perfectly willing to commit murder here in this alleyway at four-thirty in the morning.

Miles’ eyes were filling with tears, because he _hurt_, not just physically, but he felt so betrayed that his uncle would be doing something like this, that he was working for Fisk, that he was willing to _kill _people for his job and it was all so _wrong_.

Prowler’s other hand came up, claws unsheathing and extending in clear demonstration for how exactly he planned to do the killing, and Miles knew he was about to die, because he couldn’t do anything and if he was going to die anyway, there might be one last bit of hope that this man wasn’t all Prowler, wasn’t all _villain_, and that maybe his uncle would actually give a damn if he saw his only nephew’s face underneath him.

Desperately, he ripped his mask off, because his hands were free because why would they be restrained when he was so much weaker than Prowler and couldn’t break his hold anyway?

He saw as the menacing glare of the Prowler’s mask abruptly went wide – remorseful, Miles was hesitant to say.

“Miles?”

The voice was still filtered through the modulator, but now Miles heard the change – the recognition, the confusion, the horror. He sounded like his uncle again.

And that’s what made him whisper: “Uncle Aaron…”

He hadn’t meant to whisper, but the pain of his injuries and the metal vice around his neck made his voice weaker, and he couldn’t help the soft volume.

But it was enough, because immediately, the Prowler – Uncle Aaron – pulled off the mask, and in the dim street light Miles could see the horror in his expression.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” he said over and over again, shaking his head and seeming unaware of the action. His eyes were tracking over Miles’ face, like he needed to confirm that it was truly his nephew that he was seeing.

His hand was still around Miles’ neck, still too tight to really be able to breathe completely, and still keeping him on his tip-toes and Miles didn’t have any idea what was going to happen next. His spidey sense was still thrumming in warning at the base of his skull, and it hadn’t diminished at all. Miles didn’t know what to think. Aaron was looking around, like he was debating with himself or looking for answers – Miles didn’t know, so he didn’t know if he was going to die right now or not.

“Please, Uncle Aaron,” he said, and his uncle looked at him again, before finally blinking and giving a small nod, as though to himself, before he gently set him back down to stand on his own feet. Then, he released the metallic grip around his neck and took a deliberate step back, putting his hands in the air – probably in surrender, or to show him that he meant no harm. Perhaps it was both.

Miles could’ve sobbed with relief. His Uncle Aaron still cared about him – he wasn’t _all _Prowler. He still wouldn’t kill him, even when it was his job and he worked for a person like Fisk. If Fisk ever found out about this, Miles shuddered to think about what could happen.

“Miles…” Uncle Aaron breathed, voice remorseful even as he kept his distance, like he was afraid of Miles’ reaction to him. “I’m so sorry.”

Miles huffed out a breath of incredulous laughter, and then winced when it jostled his ribs. Uncle Aaron looked just as pained as he felt just at the sight, and he took another step back, hands still out by his sides to show his lack of intent to cause further harm.

“I’ll forgive you as soon as my ribs heal up,” Miles wheezed, hand going to his side as though that would help with the pain. “Which will be, you know, shorter than usual, what with the new Spider powers and all, so you don’t gotta worry about that.”

“Miles, how…” Uncle Aaron said, face screwed up in a rictus of pain even as his voice reflected every single emotion he was feeling.

He cut himself off though, shaking his head to himself and looking to the ground. A moment later, he looked up at Miles with a new expression on his face, one that looked very much like resignation, and Miles felt dread curdle in his gut. He didn’t know what Uncle Aaron was going to do or say next, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to like it.

“Miles,” Uncle Aaron started, and then faltered. Then, his expression firmed and he said evenly, “You should get yourself looked at. Prowler’s – _I’m_ – not going to cause you any more trouble.”

“Uncle Aaron,” Miles said cautiously, because this felt very much like a goodbye and _he didn’t like it_.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Uncle Aaron cut him off before he could go any further, and honestly that startled Miles more than anything else. He couldn’t remember a time when his uncle interrupted him – not _ever_. His uncle’s expression flickered, and Miles could see the sadness warring with guilt before deciding that both could occupy the same space. “I wanted you to look up to me. I let you down.”

“No,” Miles tried, taking a step forward, but Uncle Aaron backed away, and so he stopped.

“You’re the best of all of us, Miles,” Uncle Aaron said, and his eyes flicked down to where Miles was still clutching his ribs. “Get yourself checked out.”

Miles tried stepping forward again, tried to stop him, but his uncle was already turning and running away. And Miles really hurt, and didn’t think he could go much farther, and Uncle Aaron just hopped on his motorcycle and zipped away, leaving him behind.

Miles stared after him, in the space where he had been moments ago, for a long time. Or at least, it felt like a long time. It might have only been a few minutes.

In any case, he finally snapped out of it when he remembered his mama’s words just a few nights before.

_Our family doesn’t run from things, Miles._

He set his jaw firmly in determination. Uncle Aaron was family, and he was trying to run away. But Miles wasn’t going to let that happen. Family stuck _together_.

Besides, Uncle Aaron had some explaining to do.

***

It was hours later, and the sun had risen by the time Aaron finally came back to his apartment. Miles wasn’t sure what he was doing, hadn’t bothered trying to call or text because he knew his uncle wasn’t going to pick up. He _had _texted Gwen, because she was the only one of the spider gang whose number he had, and he’d told her that he was figuring out something and he would meet them all later for the collider. He kept it purposefully vague, not wanting to let her in on what was going on but also not wanting them to worry and make plans about one of them staying behind and dying or something because they thought he’d quit. She wasn’t very happy with his vagueness, but Miles thought that if he played this right with Uncle Aaron that everything would be fine later.

He could see the instant his uncle realized that someone was in the apartment, saw his posture stiffen and then loosen into a stance like he was ready to leap into a fight, before he saw Miles on the couch and his posture stiffened once again – but in a different way this time. This time, rather than an aura of menace, he projected an aura of wariness as well as guilt and regret.

“Miles,” Aaron said cautiously. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I figure you’re not a _licensed _medical professional, but you did take that one class with Mom in college,” Miles said in faux casualty, “And as the only somewhat equipped person with medical training who knows about my secret powers, I decided that you should be the one to make sure everything is fine with me.”

“Miles, do you not realize that _I’m _the one who _did _all that to you,” Aaron said flatly. Most of his costume was gone – he was only wearing his pair of pants (purple) and a long-sleeve fitted black tee. Miles supposed he must wear that underneath the purple top that was normally covering him. His rocket boots had been changed out for a familiar pair of black combat boots, and Miles idly wondered if he had a storage place or something to change out of and into for things like this.

“Sure,” Miles agreed with his uncle’s statement. “So you should know how to take care of it the most.” When Aaron looked like he would protest again, Miles decided to pull the guilt card. Meeting his eyes dead-on, he said quietly, “It’s the least that you owe me.”

That’s what did it. Uncle Aaron cursed quietly under his breath, but nonetheless came over and sat beside him on the couch.

“What are you doing, sitting up like this?” he lectured, though the worry and guilt in his voice negated any sternness that he might have been going for. “Why aren’t you lying down? Have you been sitting up this whole time?”

“No,” Miles said cheekily, “It took about thirty minutes to climb the fire escape up here, so I wasn’t sitting down then.”

“Jesus, kid,” Aaron muttered, deft hands feeling along Miles’ side and wincing along with him when he found the breaks. He didn’t say anything else about sitting or standing or otherwise, instead continuing, “Can you take off your shirt?”

“Sure,” Miles agreed, and though it definitely hurt to jostle his arms when he raised them above his head, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had hours beforehand.

“Those powers really come in handy,” Aaron muttered, echoing Miles’ thoughts exactly on the matter. While Miles had been removing his shirt, Aaron had fetched a large roll of fabric, which Aaron explained in short terms was to wrap up the ribs. It hurt when Aaron was helping to put it on, but Miles had to admit – at least to himself – that the limited range of movement did make the area feel better overall.

The road rash on his arms and knees was already healing, but Aaron took the time anyway to wash the injuries and wrap them in gauze, too. They’d probably be healed in a few hours, at the rate they were going, but Miles was just glad that once Aaron had agreed to patching him up that he wasn’t leaving anything alone under the excuse that he needed to stay away from him, or something.

It was as he was taping one of said wounds that Miles finally asked quietly, “So why do you do it?”

Aaron didn’t pretend to misunderstand. His hands paused in their movements, before continuing as he said in a careful voice, “I got in with the wrong crowd, didn’t see a way out. So I embraced it, and eventually became…_this_.”

It wasn’t really an answer, but Miles had a feeling that it was all he was going to get at that point, so he accepted it. At least for now.

“There are five other Spider people here, right now,” Miles said, changing the subject. Aaron glanced at him curiously, but he didn’t look surprised. He’d probably already been told, by someone on the other side.

“They’re dying,” Miles went on earnestly. They’re from different universes, and their bodies can’t handle it. So we’re – we’re going to send them all back through Fisk’s repaired collider, and then I’m shutting it down. So that none of them are trapped here, and they won’t die.”

“Why are you telling me this, Miles?” Aaron asked, his eyes unreadable as he looked up at him.

“Because _I’m _doing it,” Miles said determinedly. “And you said you’re not going to fight me or hurt me or cause me trouble. But if you stay with Fisk, then you’ll have to. I _can’t _let Fisk win, Uncle Aaron. He’ll destroy _everything_.”

Aaron was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Fisk expects you to be dead within the next few hours. Well, not _you_-you, but. The kid from…that night.” His eyes shifted away guiltily as he remembered that it was his own nephew who had been there when Peter Parker had died – had been _killed _– and how _he_ had clearly been the one about to do it before Fisk had taken care of it for him instead in his fury. Aaron had been the one to get rid of the body, the one to make sure that it was in a place that someone could find it without it causing widespread panic.

But he shoved those memories away, focusing in on his nephew again, who was watching him with determined, expectant brown eyes.

“Obviously I’m not going to do that,” Aaron said firmly. “But Fisk will know something is wrong, and send someone to check in. He’ll know I’ve…defected.”

Miles’ expression lit up. “So you _are _quitting?”

“Miles, I don’t think you understand,” Aaron said cautiously. “You don’t…_quit_…something like this. Quitting means…quitting means you die.”

“Does Fisk know you as anyone more than the Prowler?” Miles asked curiously.

Aaron blinked at the seeming non-sequitur, before his brain caught up to him and he realized the reason for Miles’ question. He sighed in resignation, disappointed to be letting down the kid.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I’ve been with him since I was just a plain old thief for hire.”

Miles carefully didn’t think about how long that was, and instead said, “What about anyone else? Who else knows?”

“No one important,” Aaron said honestly as he helped his nephew back into his shirt.

Miles grinned at him when his face became visible again. “Good,” he said confidently. “Then I have a plan. It’s simple, but it should work.”

***

Miles was right. The plan really _was _simple. It started with a quick trip to the store for some spray paint and ended with some pictures on each of their cell phones.

The middle was the most important part, though.

By the end of it all, Miles was just _exhausted_. His ribs had been twinging throughout the entire fight on the collider, and it certainly hadn’t been helped with Fisk’s direct hits. The other Spider people had been briefly informed of what was going on, of what had happened in the wee hours of that morning, but they couldn’t stop him from joining in the fight with them. Not after he had proved that he was just as capable as they were.

He had his dad to thank for that one.

Miles didn’t think he would ever know what had prompted his dad to come and talk to him right then, of all times. He had gone back to his dorm at Visions Academy to leave a dated note to Ganke that he’d gone to his uncle’s for a few days, which he figured his roommate would believe and corroborate because he was always so sucked into his own thing that he would easily believe that he had just missed a note that Miles had left for him if he was questioned about it. As he was preparing to leave – Aaron was waiting for him around the corner on his normal, non-Prowler motorcycle – he heard a knock, and then his dad’s voice.

And he had said words that Miles hadn’t even realized he had needed to hear. He hadn’t realized that he had needed the confidence of someone else in his abilities after having his world upended by the sudden revelation about his uncle, hadn’t even realized that he was doubting or down on himself and stressed about everything there until his dad – his _dad _– was the one to tell him that he believed in him.

When he went to meet Uncle Aaron, he didn’t tell him what his dad had said. It seemed…private, almost. Something just between him and his dad.

He thought Aaron probably noticed something different in him though, because his eyes swept up and down Miles’ small form before he said in a casual tone, “Did your eyes always spark with that blue, and I just never noticed?”

Miles smirked a little at him, but didn’t answer the question directly. Instead, he climbed on the motorcycle behind him and sped off towards May’s house.

They had succeeded, because they were Spider people and they always got back up, and Miles felt proud that he could count himself as one of them now. He had done it. He had stopped Fisk – again, he had his dad to thank for that. He didn’t know how he had gotten into the building, and how he was the only one to be there when everything was going down and worlds were crashing around them, but he was grateful to whatever god up there was looking out for him, because he didn’t think he could have done it without his dad’s whispered and then yelled words of support and encouragement at just the moment he needed it.

He couldn’t resist thanking him afterwards either, because even though his dad didn’t know it yet, Miles felt like they had made some great progress in their relationship and didn’t want to see it slide backwards again. He loved Uncle Aaron, but he suddenly understood what his dad was trying to stop him from becoming with his strictness and tough love, and he didn’t feel quite so _angry _anymore that his dad and his uncle didn’t get along. His dad probably knew at least partially what Aaron got up to, and that’s why he tried to discourage Miles from being around him too much.

He didn’t begrudge him for that – not anymore.

And now, he was tired, and hungry, and he really wanted to collapse for a solid eighteen hours like he saw Ganke do once when his roommate had finally crashed after a straight three and a half days awake.

At least he didn’t have bruises on his face, was his last thought before drifting to sleep on Aaron’s couch. That would be awkward to explain.

***

The thing was, Fisk was still alive. Obviously. Spider people in general were against killing. (Noir was a bit more lax on it, but he really stuck to mostly just killing Nazis. Ham didn’t count, because in his universe you killed them but they came back to life within minutes so it didn’t really matter. That was cartoons for you, though.)

Miles had, of course, taken great pleasure in webbing up the _very _large man between two buildings, leaving a note behind as though the webs didn’t explain enough who the “gift” was from.

But because Fisk was alive, and there was definitely enough evidence to put him away for a very long time, regardless of how rich he was or how many lawyers he had, he tried making deals by revealing more of his accomplices and co-conspirators. It caused the police department to be overturned as crimes were realized and facts were brought to light, causing many grumbles from Miles’ dad not only about all the extra paperwork, but all of the new seminars and tests done to weed out anyone whom Fisk _hadn’t _ratted out. There was also that fact that a quarter of the guys Jefferson Davis had trusted turned out to be dirty cops, which the man emphasized frequently were much worse than Spiderman.

Before all of that though, his closest and most used accomplices and pawns and whatever else he wanted to call them were admitted to.

Aaron Davis was the first person to be named in what would turn out to be a long list of crooks. The large man was understandably angry when Prowler had just disappeared hours before the situation with the collider, and he wanted him taken away immediately.

When police had arrived at Aaron’s door though, they had been surprised to see the man in question wearing a tatty pair of pajamas, eating a bowl of cereal and watching TV. He looked perfectly normal. A moment later, a young teenager had appeared sleepily at the door behind him, squinting at them in apparent confusion.

Aaron had looked just as lost when they told him that he was under arrest under suspicion of working with Wilson Fisk, and therefore of committing several crimes that were too numerous to list all of at once. The seeming honest and true expression of confusion went a long way toward easing the officers away from fearing a super villain fight in the small apartment.

“I’ve been with Uncle Aaron for three days now,” Miles said after they finished their explanation, blinking at the two officers. “We’ve been together the whole time. He didn’t have _time _to go out and do anything.”

Aaron was still taken away for questioning of course, and his apartment was thoroughly searched, but there was no evidence found. When he came face to face with Wilson Fisk himself, just as an assurance for the police, there was no trace of personal recognition. Fisk was spitting mad, but of course there was no proof to be had.

There were questions and follow-ups, even after he was released. But, Aaron had learned a new thing about Miles. Aside from being very forgiving of his list of crimes and wrongdoings, he never abandoned him. He always came back, lending his support and even going as far as to admit to his dad that they had been doing a lot of art work on walls it was technically illegal to mark up as they did, and suffered with quiet dignity through the month long grounding, never once complaining.

Because Miles was part of a family that didn’t run from their problems. He, more than anyone else Aaron knew, stuck around to the end to be sure that the family stuck together. Aaron felt warm inside when he thought about his nephew, keeping his secret along with his own from even his parents as they went through all this. He knew that Miles would tell them eventually – he wouldn’t _want _him to keep something like this from the people who could help him the most – but he knew that telling Jeff right then would put him in a tight spot in his duty as a cop. They would wait for the Fisk case to be resolved, so that if he was asked a question about his brother being a suspect, he could answer with honesty and plausible deniability that he really had no idea.

And Miles continued to back him, even when people at school found out about his relation to the infamous Prowler – suspected, at least – and began shunning or criticizing him for it. Aaron tried to say that he should really just turn himself in, because this wasn’t going to work like he wanted it to, but Miles wouldn’t hear of it. He kept his head high, and continued in his support.

Because that’s who Miles Morales was – he never turned his back on someone who needed it, or on someone he loved. It was a trait common in every Spiderman.

But Aaron didn’t care about Spiderman – he never had. He was just glad he could call someone like Miles his nephew.

He really was the best of all of them.

**Author's Note:**

> I almost had it so that Aaron went to the thing with the collider in an extra Spiderman suit, but then I thought - what would the point of that even be? Would it even be possible? I decided I would be stretching it too much. So Aaron was just chilling at his apartment, keeping things set up for Just In Case scenarios. ;)
> 
> Hope you all liked it - let me know what you thought!
> 
> Find me on [ Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hashtagleh) :)


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